When wretches, on the earth reclin'd,
Their doom of condenmation find,
The end of earthly beings near,
'Tis then soft Pity's melting tear.
If on some lovely creature's face,
Rich in proportion, colour, grace,
A pearly drop should once appear,
Tis then the lovely, beauteous tear.
When mothers - Oh! the grateful sigh -
Their children view with fond delight,
Surrounded by a charge so dear,
Tis then the fond maternal tear.
When lovers see the beauteous maid,
To whom their fondest vows are paid
With fear and doubting hopes draw near,
Tis then, oh! then the trembling tear.
But when the wretch with guilt opprest
Strikes in an agony his breast
All torn with guilt remorse and fear
Tis then, the best the saving tear.
